


Power vs. Prowess

by Tainted_Grace



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Anal Sex, BAMF Felicity Smoak, Barry wants him to be selfish, Emotional Constipation, Feelings, Felicity knows, First Time, I REGRET NOTHING, Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oliver is too selfless, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Requited Unrequited Love, They love each other, Training, pizza addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 15:40:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10441101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tainted_Grace/pseuds/Tainted_Grace
Summary: Barry Allen knows he has a lot to learn. That’s why he’s asked Oliver Queen to teach him. The poor Speedster is quickly losing track of how many times the vigilante has shot him with those ridiculously sharp arrows. Barry is getting fed up with Oliver’s whole “better than you” routine and he starts to think of ways to throw the man off his game. What Barry seems to forget is that Oliver Queen is a stubborn man and is not really in the habit of losing.ORBarry starts a game of gay chicken to throw Arrow off but all it does is make them both sexually frustrated and strung tighter than Oliver’s damned bowstrings.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I am a huge fan of Grant Gustin.
> 
> So I started watching The Flash... Which led to me starting Arrow... Which led to this...
> 
> I regret nothing.

The scream that rips itself out of Barry Allen’s throat is almost enough to make Oliver Queen feel bad.

Almost.

Instead of showing the uncharacteristic sympathy, Oliver just strides towards the man writhing on his back with his right hand clutching his left bicep. “I told you I was going to use my real arrows,” he says, twisting the shaft of the arrow lodged into the Flash’s left shoulder to retract the hooks embedded in the tissue.

“So what do you call the things you’ve _been_ using?” Barry rolls onto his side with a howl of pain the second Oliver yanks his arrow out of the metahuman’s flesh.

“Those are training arrows. They don’t have the spring hooks.” The archer shrugs, examining the projectile to see if it’s damaged. “Do it again.”

Barry growls to himself as he rises to his feet, which makes Oliver smirk. “Why? So you can shoot me again?”

“If you would just _case your surroundings_ like I’ve been trying to teach you for a _week_ now you could easily find and disarm all 26 of the crossbows I have set up all around the warehouse.” Oliver shrugs, dropping the bloody arrow into a quiver off to the left that is leaning against one of the concrete support beams lining the huge space.

“26!?” Barry cries out, taking a step towards where Oliver is standing with his arms crossed over his chest.

The stance perfectly showcases the man’s bulging biceps, solid pectorals and rippling abdominals. Barry ceases all movement for a split second to think through the plan that zapped into his brain at the sight. Barry offers Oliver a dangerous smirk of his own before he vanishes in a rush of air. It takes him 6.3 seconds to lap the entire warehouse twice from floor to ceiling and disarm all of the crossbows Oliver has hidden around.

By the time he gets back to where Oliver is standing Barry had a massive grin on his face. He uses his momentum to force the older man to the ground on his stomach before sitting on the small of his back. “There were 27 traps, Ollie.” He purrs into the man’s ear, enjoying the feeling of all that muscle beneath him more than he probably should while still in his skin-tight suit.

Barry hears the whistling of an arrow a second too late and he ends up pressed down against Ollie’s entire back with an arrow lodged between his shoulder blades. He takes half a second to be grateful that this is a so-called “training arrow” because of how close it is to his spine. “There were actually 28.”

“Yeah, I can feel that.” Barry groans, wincing as Oliver slips out from under him and it shifts the arrow dangerously close to his spine. He’s sure he could heal from a severed spinal column but he would really rather not find out.

“Oh, don’t be dramatic. You’ll heal.” Oliver pulls his arrow out with slightly more care but no less pain. “It was two inches to the right of your spine.”

Barry is on his feet in a flash (pun intended) and he gets dangerously close to Oliver’s face with anger etched into the lines and angles of his face. “I cased this entire place _twice_. Where the hell could that have _possibly_ been?”

“Outside.” Barry blanches at the flippant way Oliver says it, taking a step back to gather his thoughts. “The first thing I did when I got back to Starling City, even before I became the Arrow, was to learn every single in and out within ten miles of the city limits. I suggest you learn Central City just as well.”

“You told me to learn _my_ surroundings!” Barry calls after the older man’s retreating form.

“So next time we’ll train in Central. Tomorrow at 8. You can come find me.”

Barry just sighs and nods, beginning the run back home. By the time he gets home to his apartment his suit is too tight, too hot, too much on his fevered skin. His fear of Cisco’s wrath makes him take his time – 2 seconds instead of 1 – to remove his suit before falling onto his bed with a frustrated moan. It isn’t exactly news to Barry that he has a thing for the man in the green hood. Ever since he met the man, both as the Arrow and as Oliver Queen, he has known that he would inevitably lust after him. What he didn’t see coming were the emotions that he now associates with the man.

The night that Barry first met Oliver Queen he went back to his hotel room and got off to the thoughts of stubble and charm. When he had his first run-in with the Arrow he fantasized about varying shades of green leather and bowstring calloused hands. But now, as his hand works on his cock as fast as he dares, he imagines the proud glint in Oliver’s eyes that he had just before they parted ways. He sees the small smile that the man seems to reserve for only Felicity when she’s being extremely… well, her. There’s the smell of his ridiculously expensive cologne mixed with a scent that is purely Oliver dancing in Barry’s mind. When he closes his eyes he can just see the indescribable blue-green-grey of Oliver’s eyes.

Barry knows he’s vibrating. He can feel it in the way his whole world seems to quake. No matter how many times the metahuman comes to thoughts of the hooded archer his attraction towards the man seems to only grow stronger. Barry’s phone goes off from where he put it on his nightstand and he completely freezes when he sees Oliver’s name and picture on the LED screen. With the very next ring he can feel his body seize up and then shake apart as he comes all over his own stomach.

His afterglow lasts for about a second between rings and then he rushes to clean himself up and answer the phone. “Hello?” He prays to any god that will listen that his voice doesn’t shake or give away what he was just doing.

“Hey, Felicity is on her way to Central City. Can you let her crash on your couch for the night? I couldn’t get through to the Hilton.”

“Well, that’s because it’s closed for renovations. Hartley kinda broke all of the windows out two weeks ago before I caught him again.” Barry admits, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly in preparation for the oncoming lecture.

“Allen!” A shiver rushes down his spine at the use of his last name in one of Oliver’s most exasperated tones “What have I told you about watching where you fight?”

“Hey, he started it! He wanted to get my attention and it worked.” Barry huffs defensively into the line, rushing to clean up his apartment so that it’s at least decent for when Felicity gets there.

“Whatever. Text me when Felicity gets there.” Oliver hasn’t sounded that gruff in weeks and, to be completely honest, Barry kind of missed it.

“Will do, Ollie.” The man promises, lowering the phone to hang up because he knows from experience that the other man isn’t really big on saying good-bye.

“Oh, and Barry?”

The phone is back at his ear in a nanosecond. “Yeah?”

“8 o’clock. And if you expect to be able to find me you’re going to have to learn your city.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there. But I _live_ in Central City so how do you expect to know the best hiding spots better tha-” Barry is cut off by the sound of the dial tone and he sighs. “Good night to you too, Oliver.”

After about 20 minutes of impatiently waiting for Felicity to show up Barry looks up the train schedule and rushes out of the apartment when he sees that it is going to take another two hours. Due to the time of night – or rather, morning – Felicity is the only one on the train when Barry hops on and sits across from her in the otherwise empty train car.

The first thing Felicity registers is the burst of wind that accompanies the Flash wherever he goes. Next is the smell of pizza that quickly fills up the space and when she looks up from her laptop she sees Barry eating a slice of pizza with a smirk on his face. “What? No squeal this time?”

“Once you feel the winds at 650 miles per hour you tend to not start at a little breeze.” Felicity smiles at her friend before resuming her work.

Being the showoff that he is, Barry takes the statement as a personal challenge. In one second he grabs Felicity’s suitcase and laptop bag. In the next he has her in his arms bridal style and takes off in the direction of Central City. It takes maybe a minute for him to Flash them back to his apartment and set up Felicity’s computer on the coffee table with her bag at the end of the couch. “Well, how about at almost the speed of sound? Does that get a reaction?”

“You’re lucky I know you well enough that I didn’t wear polyester today.” She rolls her eyes, dropping onto the couch and resuming whatever she had been working on on the train. “Thanks for not setting my clothes on fire this time.”

“No problem.” He winks, flickering out of and then back into focus briefly. “I can go pick up a pizza if you’re hungry.”

The only indication that the younger had moved at all is the two glasses of water now clutched in his hands. “Somehow I have a feeling that you ‘picking up a pizza’ is actually petty theft.”

“I leave the money for it in the drawer!” He protests, which somehow makes Felicity feel slightly better.

“I think I’m going to just go to sleep for now, Barry.” Felicity shrugs, shutting down her laptop and taking her glasses off.

“That’s fine. I’ll grab coffee in the morning before I go to work so it’s there when you wake up.” Barry nods, moving into the kitchen to grab one of the high-calorie energy bars Cisco made him.

“Oh, Barry?” Felicity calls a few seconds later when he is just a few feet from his bedroom door. “Oliver may seem cold and heartless but he is actually really proud of you.”

“What makes you say that?” Barry asks the back of the blonde’s head, glad she can’t see his face or the blush coloring his cheeks.

“I heard his voice when he told me how training went. He said you did a lot better than he expected.”

“Oh. Okay. Good night, Felicity.” With that said he vanishes into his room, his heart pounding in his chest as he stares at the dark room.

Oliver is proud of him. Oliver Queen is _proud_ of him.

Barry is pretty sure his heart is beating so fast that it would read as a flat line. The forensic scientist throws himself down on his bed, curling up under the covers with a grin splitting his face. All thoughts of sleep vanish because of how fast his mind is working so he instead starts brainstorming the plan that popped into his head earlier while training with Oliver.

+++

Barry Allen has had it up to _here_ with Oliver Queen!

Barry spends his entire lunch break canvasing up and down every street in Central City. It takes him all of 15 minutes to find an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town that fits the Arrow’s M.O. to a perfect ‘T.’ For the rest of the day he has the urge to run the road connecting Central to Starling City just so he knows what time to expect the billionaire. It’s only due to a new case and Joe’s disapproving looks that he doesn’t obey the whim. By the time 8 o’clock rolls around he is mentally exhausted while simultaneously more energetic than normal.

Anyway, back to the reason why Barry Allen is fed up with Oliver Queen.

Barry _knew_ he was going to be late before he even left work and he just _knew_ that Oliver would say something about it like he does every other time Barry is late. Even so, he is only five minutes late but apparently it is enough for Oliver to get bored because when Barry walks in he’s doing pull-ups off of the fucking _rafters_.

 _Shirtless_.

This wouldn’t be a problem for Barry except for how it totally is a very real problem that needs to be addressed before he has to sit through an awkward lecture from Cisco about the cleanliness of his suit.

Barry starts to take a step further inside when Oliver’s voice is in the back of his head. He rests his foot back down and glances around him, checking for any signs of a pre-loaded crossbow. He finds six just within his limited eye line in the dimly lit room so he sighs and makes a lap around the entire property inside and out to disarm all of Oliver’s nasty little traps before he makes his way up to the second floor and just stares as the muscles in Oliver’s arms and shoulders and back all ripple with the effort it takes to hold himself up. Barry knows he knows he’s there but he doesn’t bother to hide his obvious ogling of the physical display of strength like he usually would.

“I figured we could work on your reflexes today. Seeing as casing isn’t really an issue anymore.” Oliver speaks up a few minutes later, his voice a bit more strained than usual.

“You must have been going easy on me, Ollie. I only found 19,” he jokes, watching the almost mechanical way that Oliver moves with a precision but also a grace that Barry wasn’t really expecting.

“Wasn’t going easy on you. I can only fit so many weapons in the car, Barry.”

Barry feels like an idiot for about half a second before a thought occurs to him and a devious smile lands on his face. Without a sound he vanishes from where he was standing, only to run along the beam that Oliver is holding on to and doing a handstand with his palms flat between Oliver’s grips. The next time he pulls himself up Oliver nearly startles at the sudden appearance of the younger man’s face so close to his own. “So reflexes? What kind of training does that entail, Yoda?”

Oliver just rolls his eyes and does another pull up before extending his arms and just hanging there as he stares up at Barry with this look in his eye that he always gets whenever he’s trying to solve a problem. “Well, for starters,” he lets go of the beam with one hand and sweeps it across Barry’s forearms, making him tip and start to fall.

There’s a flicker of movement above him that is way too fast to see and then Barry is standing upright on the rafter with his arms crossed and a pout on his face. “What the hell was that for?”

“Just testing to see how fast you can react.” Oliver pulls himself up with both arms again, grip not even faltering once on the unforgiving metal despite how long he has been holding himself up.

“Oh, and why is that?” There is sarcasm lacing every word as Barry drops into a squat and angles his face down to stare directly at his mentor with the pout still on his face.

“Because I was making sure you could react in time to catch me.” Oliver would be shrugging if he could move his shoulders, of that Barry is 100% sure.

“Wait, what?” Barry asks, only to have his heart stop in his chest when he sees Oliver release his grip and begin to fall. “Ollie!”

Barry is on the move instantly, running to catch Oliver before he passes the open center of the second floor on his way to the concrete 40 feet below. There is a split second where Barry is worried that he won’t be fast enough and he can feel fear coil low in his stomach as he forces himself to move faster. By the time Oliver gets within 10 feet of the hard floor Barry is already there, waiting. The metahuman braces himself for the physical impact of catching all of that muscle and even then he can feel his wrists try to give out as he slows the descent and finally sets Ollie on his back in the center of the open floor.

“What the fuck were you thinking!?” He screams the second he has the man safely on the ground, leaning over him from his place beside his hip so that he can glare into those bright eyes. “You could’ve just gotten yourself killed!”

“But I didn’t.” Oliver points out, sitting up and forcing Barry to back up a bit so they don’t bump heads. “I knew you would catch me.”

“Right! Because that’s a great reason to throw yourself from the rafters from _40 feet in the air!_ ” Barry continues to scream, that pit in his stomach roiling hotly and making his face heat up. He can feel hot tears wanting to prick at his eyes but he holds them back by sheer force of will as he berates the man beneath him.

“I didn’t throw myself off. I just let go.” Oliver sounds like the epitome of calm and it makes the speedster want to simultaneously kick his ass and kiss him until they are both breathless and panting.

“What if I wasn’t fast enough, Ollie? Huh? What if I hadn’t gotten there in time and you actually landed? What then, tough guy?” Barry can hear the waver in his voice but he tries desperately to ignore it because accepting it means accepting that he has extremely strong feelings for the man and that is a thought that he can’t even begin to process right now.

“Yeah, but you _were_ fast enough. Why are you doubting yourself?” Oliver sounds genuinely confused now, wondering why the younger man is so adamant about this.

“Never mind. You have no self-preservation instinct at all, do you?” Barry asks, voice still shaking but going cold and bitter.

“Not really, no.”

Right at that moment Oliver gets it. The look on Barry’s face when he says that tells him more than enough. Barry is genuinely worried about him. Oliver takes a second to reverse the situation and imagine what he would feel in the role of the Flash. He feels his heart clench harshly at the thought of being a second too late and watching Barry fall, knowing that it was his fault for not being fast enough. Without a word he pulls the man into a bear hug, holding him tight to his bare chest as he continues to mumble under his breath and calm down.

“I’m sorry, Barry.”

“You’re a dick,” is the only response he gets and it makes him smile; it’s better than silence or Barry simply vanishing in a trail of light out of anger.

“I know I am. Why don’t we reschedule training for tomorrow and go get a drink?”

“I can’t get drunk, asshole.” Barry reminds him and Oliver chuckles, shaking his head at him.

“You don’t have to drink just to get drunk, Barry.”

+++

Over the next couple of weeks Oliver and Barry train almost every single night. Sometimes it’s in Central City but most it’s in Starling at what Barry lovingly refers to as Oliver’s “Arrow Cave.” Almost every single night Barry allows his touch to linger longer than necessary and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he is trying to throw Oliver off of his game.

Except Oliver is stubborn and he never backs down from a challenge. So the touches linger. Oliver lets his voice drop into that register that he usually reserves for giving demands and knows instantly the reaction that it has on Barry. Barry begins to ditch the suit after one too many lectures from Cisco about “arrows in my precious suit, Allen!” Which would be fine, except now Oliver has to watch him strut around in sweatpants that have to be at least two sizes too big and hang dangerously low on his hips. Most days Barry wears his grey STAR Labs t-shirt, but as summer gets closer and closer he strips it off sooner into their training sessions.

Oliver knows that Barry is trying to make him lose his focus so that he can gain the upper hand – it’s actually a pretty good tactic when he thinks about it – but he has to admit that the sight of Barry Allen sweaty and panting after a particularly rough sparring session is something he would trade the world for. So he starts to just come to training in nothing but a pair of basketball shorts, kneepads, and shoes. Barry’s gaze lingers, his touches even more prolonged than before.

Oliver would be lying if he said that the sudden attention didn’t do anything for him.

Oliver Queen has known that Barry would be the death of him since the very start. Even before he was the Flash, the kid had something about him that just drew Oliver in and made him want to trust him, despite knowing next to nothing about him. He would definitely be lying if he said that he didn’t get off after almost every time he trained with the kid to the memory of his grunts and wishing that they were in a different context.

+++

Oliver and Barry are idiots. It’s been almost two months since they started their little dance of one-upmanship and neither will admit to the other that they want it to be real.

Felicity isn’t blind like they pair seems to think. And she is getting sick of walking in only to feel like she is intruding on some super private moment between lovers.

So she does something about it.

Felicity texts Barry on his day off under the guise of getting his opinion on some CSI thing that she made up just before Oliver starts his daily workout, which basically consists of turning the entire warehouse into his personal jungle gym. She knows that it will take the Flash exactly 23 minutes and 18 seconds to get to the warehouse in the Glades so she stays silent and does some idle hacking to bide the time.

When she knows that Barry is less than two minutes out she finally speaks up to get Oliver’s attention, only briefly considering the consequences if she’s wrong. “Ollie, you know I care about you, right?”

“Of course I do, Felicity.” He grunts as he goes up another rung of the salmon ladder.

“And you know that as your friend I would do anything for you, right?” She presses on, seeing the twitch in his spine the second he realizes that she is about to give him one of her talks.

“Yeah… Where is this going?”

“What are you doing with Barry?” She asks, figuring that blunt is the way to go.

+++

Cars are a near-solid blur as Barry runs in the familiar path to Oliver’s dad’s warehouse out in the Glades. When he gets there he pauses, hearing his name fall from Felicity’s lips followed by the sound of Oliver’s solid frame landing on the concrete. Salmon bars, then, Barry thinks to himself, moving forward to try to get a good vantage point because he’s a nosy little shit and when he hears his name he automatically wants to know why it has been said.

“I’m training him. What does it look like I’ve been doing for the past three months?” Barry watches as Oliver grabs a towel and wraps it around his bare shoulders, turning to look at Felicity which leaves his sweaty back in Barry’s direction.

“No, I mean, what are you doing to his heart, Ollie.” She clarifies and Barry wonders what part of the conversation he missed or if it’s just supposed to not make sense.

“What do you mean?”

“I walked in on you two training the other day when you were first running him through close quarters combat and I swear I haven’t seen you look at anyone like that in years. You looked like you wanted to eat the poor kid. And while you were busy staring at him he was busy staring at you!” Felicity insists after she catches a glimpse of Barry’s black jacket out of the corner of her eye.

“Felicity…” She knows that tone. That’s Oliver’s “be careful what you say” tone.

“Don’t you ‘Felicity’ me, Oliver Queen. I may not know Barry Allen as well as I know you, but I do know that that kid falls fast. And when he does he falls hard. Are you sure you want to be playing this game with him?”

“Who said I was playing?” Oliver asks, ruffling his hair with the towel before putting it back around his shoulders.

“What?”

“What if I genuinely like the kid?”

“Ollie, I-” Felicity cuts herself off, eyes wide and vulnerable at the admission.

“I would rather have to spend the rest of my life on that damn island than hurt Barry Allen. And knowing me the _moment_ I went for it I would screw it up. So let me enjoy him trying to throw me off my game before I have to cut it off entirely.” Oliver lays everything bare to the woman he trusts more than anyone, feeling so relieved to finally get it off his chest.

“But what if he feels the same way? What if he wants you just as much as you want him?” Felicity asks and Barry swears he could kiss her out of sheer joy in that moment.

“He doesn’t want me. Didn’t you say he was head over heels for that Iris chick?” Oliver scoffs at the sheer thought of any reciprocation on Barry’s part and the speedster kind of wants to rush up to him and tell him just how wrong he is but Felicity is talking again and he is far too intrigued to interrupt now.

“He was in love with Iris. Key word being ‘was.’” Felicity gathers her things together and prepares to leave, knowing that the two have plenty to talk about now. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Oliver. I don’t think you have to worry about him not reciprocating your feelings. There’s a delivery guy on his way with 6 pizzas, by the way.” She calls out to the man as she is leaving.

“Why?”

“Because I asked Barry to come help me with some science thing that I don’t actually need help with. He should be on his way now. You two have a lot to talk about.”

Barry quietly makes his exit and stands beside Felicity’s car until she comes outside. She smiles when she sees him, sighing in relief when he doesn’t look pissed off or betrayed. “I think you know what to do now, Mr. Allen.”

He beams at her with a mischievous look in his eye that she finds both worrying and positively adorable. “Thank you, Felicity.”

He hugs her tightly and she buries her face in the shoulder of his jacket to hide her massive grin. “Anything to help out a friend. Go easy on him, Barry. He’s more emotionally repressed than a potato.”

Barry laughs at the analogy and kisses her forehead just as a car pulls up and a delivery man gets out with two arms full of pizza. “Aw, Felicity. You shouldn’t have!” Barry beams when the woman pays for the pizzas and then hands him all six boxes.

“I really should have. I’ll see you soon, Barry.” She winks and he turns and runs into the warehouse, already pulling out a slice of pizza as he goes.

“Hey, Oliver.” He mumbles around the slice, acting as if he didn’t hear Oliver practically confess his undying love for him just minutes before. He knows better than that. If he just confronts the man outright he will close himself off and shut down completely, which is rather counterproductive, to be honest. “I caught Felicity outside. She bought pizza.”

“Hey, Barry.” Oliver sounds gruff and closed off so Barry decides to press his luck. He puts the pizzas down on one of the tables in Oliver’s little unofficial bullpen before coming up beside his hunched figure and resting his chin on his (regrettably) clothed shoulder.

“Wha’cha doin’?” He asks in the most obnoxious voice he can and Oliver just ignores him in favor of brooding over a map of Starling City. “Oliver?”

“What are you doing here, Barry? It’s the first night in over a week I don’t have you running suicides or trying to pin me in a sparring session.”

Barry tries not to imagine having Oliver trapped beneath him on the mat with his hands pinned above his head in Barry’s fists and he fails completely and totally. “Well, Felicity said she needed me to do some science thingy but when I saw her outside she said she already figured it out. I figured while I was already in town I would see if you wanted to train a bit.”

There is a plan formulating in Barry’s mind and it could either go extremely well or go horribly and make things between he and Oliver awkward for the rest of eternity. It takes him all of two seconds to decide that it’s most definitely worth the risk. Oliver stands up straight and it forces Barry to move his head off of the taller man’s shoulder but he doesn’t move back much so when Oliver turns to face him they are closer than they have ever been without one of them being pinned and debating whether or not they want to tap out or stay right where they are.

Oliver’s words seem to die in his throat but he quickly clears his throat and pushes through. “Sure. But I am still sore from that little cheat you did yesterday so no super speed allowed.”

“Scout’s honor.” Barry promises in a mock salute that makes Oliver roll his eyes and stomp off towards the mat with a box of pizza in his hands.

“Eat first, Barry.” He says behind him and Barry carries the other five boxes with him to the mat before sitting cross-legged and beginning to chow down on the legally obtained pies. He’ll have to be sure to thank Felicity again and also ask her how she knew his favorite pizza.

The pair sit in a companionable silence for a good half an hour just eating pizza and trying not to get caught staring at one another. Once all of the pizzas are gone Barry makes quick work of the boxes and tosses a bottle of water to Oliver from the mini fridge that he thinks used to be full of bags of Oliver’s blood.

“Okay, Ollie-wan, what style are we learning tonight?”

“First of all stop it with the stupid references. You still need work on your offense, especially when it comes to close quarters. So we can start there.” Oliver is being selfish, he knows he is. Barry’s offense if fine, well, actually more than fine, but he needs to be close to the man after spilling his guts to Felicity.

“Sure. Why don’t you show me which routine you want me to do and then I’ll mirror that?” Barry shrugs, preferring to work on his close quarter’s _defense_ but this will have to do.

+++

An hour and a half later Barry is done. He is done pretending that he doesn’t care about the man he’s fighting. He’s done pretending that he doesn’t enjoy the ridiculously close and frequent contact that is doing things to him. And most of all he is done lying to himself and trying to convince himself that his is not in love with Oliver Queen.

“C’mon, Barry. You can do better than that. Focus.” Oliver instructs, helping Barry back to his feet and squaring off against him again.

It’s cheating. Oliver specifically said no super speed but Barry can’t help it if he adds a little bit of a boost to his step to propel him across the space faster. He flawlessly tackles Oliver to the mat and straddles him with his knees on the billionaire’s shoulders to keep him down. Less than a second later he slides down so he is laying completely on top of the man and then he kisses him.

He would love to be able to look back and say that he and Oliver’s first kiss was everything a first kiss should be: loving, slow, timid, shy. Their real first kiss is the total opposite. Both of them are so wound up from dancing around each other for the past couple of months that even the brush of Barry’s lips against Oliver’s is enough to set them off.

Thanks to Barry and his ever handy super speed they are both standing upright in no time with Barry’s back against a support beam as Oliver boxes him in against it. Barry moans into Oliver’s mouth and the older man just clings tighter to him like this is all a cruel dream that he is going to wake up from any second.

Just as the thought crosses Barry’s mind Oliver grabs him by the shoulders and ends the kiss. Before Barry can even open his eyes the archer is holding him at arm’s length and still has him trapped against the cold concrete beam. “Barry,” the older man starts, voice lower and rougher than the Flash has ever heard it, “we can’t.”

“Why not?” Barry can hear that he is almost whining and tries desperately to pull Oliver closer without much success.

“I’m not good for you, Barry. I won’t be the reason you lose that light in your eyes or the beautiful smile that always seems to be painting your face whenever you talk to Felicity or Caitlin or Cisco. I won’t darken your soul.” Oliver’s eyes bore straight through Barry and he gulps, knowing that Oliver is being very serious.

“Oliver, you don’t give yourself enough credit.” Barry sighs, gently gripping his wrists and making him drop his grip on his shoulders. The younger hero takes a step closer as slowly as he can so as to not startle the man. “You say that you’re all of these bad things, which, yeah, are mostly true, but you neglect to add all of the good things.” Oliver looks right into his eyes again, deciding that the blue irises are far more interesting than the barren floor he was trying to focus on. “You’re kind, and thoughtful, and protective. You’re pretty much the best big brother I have ever see. You respect the people around you and you care about the all a lot despite trying to act like you don’t. You always think about others before yourself no matter what the cost might be to you. You are not a bad guy, Oliver.”

“I’m not a good one either.” He whispers, not being able to say much more than that and still fight the urge to pull Barry back in by the lapels of his jacket and kiss him stupid all over again. “I’ve killed people, Barry.”

“May be hard to believe, but so have I.” Barry rolls his eyes, taking another step closer to Oliver and holding in a smile when the man doesn’t stop him. “I know you, Oliver Queen. You are a good person, and you deserve to have good things happen to you. Let me be one of those good things.”

Oliver looks up at Barry with clear eyes for the first time. Since when has the kid been taller than him? He knows that he probably looks like he is in awe and he doesn’t bother to put up his usual mask of indifference. Barry Allen is worth being in awe of. Oliver takes a solid minute to silently work through his options in his mind, debating whether he should be selfish and let Barry do what they clearly both want or if he wants to do the right thing and send the younger man home before he inevitably breaks him.

The decision is made for him when Barry takes another step closer and slowly lifts his hand to his cheek. Barry looks so open, so honest, and the expression nearly wrecks Oliver right then. So when Barry smiles softly down at him and says “I love you” in a tone so loving that Oliver can barely stand it he leans forward and pulls him into the kiss that he has been trying to deny them both.

Barry moans into the kiss after just a few seconds, knowing that this time Oliver isn’t going to pull away. They end up back against the pillar and Barry wraps his arms tightly around Oliver’s shoulders so that he doesn’t try to run again. Oliver wraps his own arms securely around the speedster’s back, pulling them as close as he can so that they are touching from head to thigh.

“I love you, too. Even though I really shouldn’t.” Oliver admits when they pull back to breathe, resting his forehead against Barry’s as they pant.

Barry gives him one of his most breathtaking smiles as a response and then they’re kissing again. Oliver couldn’t stop now even if he tried, so he doesn’t try. He lets himself have this moment to be selfish, even if it means that later they will both have to face the consequences.

They’re both already sweaty and shirtless from training so Barry allows his hands to roam all over the long expanses of muscle and sinew that have been taunting him for months. When they break the kiss to breathe he just moves his lips down Oliver’s neck and sucks at a spot on his collar bone that makes the older man make this sound that drives Barry positively crazy. After he leaves a large purple mark that is definitely going to bruise on the skin he kisses and licks his way down Oliver’s throat to his chest. Barry spends a lot of time lavishing attention to each individual scar on Oliver’s torso, wondering how the man got each one as well as wondering if he will ever get to hear the story behind the marks.

In the blink of an eye Barry reverses their positions so that Oliver is the one leaning up against the concrete pillar. Once he knows that the man is supported by the beam he slips down to his knees and kisses at the teeth shaped scars on Oliver’s left hip. He smirks when his ministrations cause Oliver’s head to roll back against the concrete as he lets out a low groan. Barry knows that Oliver is still holding back so he decides to up the ante. He licks a path up Oliver’s chest to his jaw, stopping to bite harshly at the mark he made before continuing on. When he gets to Oliver’s jaw he slows down even more, allowing his kisses to get sloppier and his nips to get a little softer. By the time he gets to Oliver’s mouth the other man is practically crazy with arousal.

This time when Barry kisses him he does nothing to stop him. Oliver reaches one of his hands up into Barry’s brown hair and angles his head for the perfect angle so that he can deepen the kiss. Barry spares half a second to be jealous of every person that has even been kissed by the Oliver Queen before he feels grateful for them. All of those people before him gave Oliver the experience that he is now using to take Barry apart piece by piece and he wouldn’t trade this for the world.

Barry can’t help but moan when Oliver starts his own trek down Barry’s neck, stopping to nip at a spot where his neck and shoulder meet and sucking a hickey into the sensitive skin. “O-Ollie! Please!” Barry begs, nails digging into Oliver’s strong shoulders as he bucks up against him with a desperation that he can feel deep in his bones.

“God, Barry!” Oliver moans and the sound is like music to his ears.

The two heroes stand there for neither-knows-how-long, pressed into each other and rutting like teenagers, trying to get the friction that they both desperately crave. “Fuck! Ollie, please. Please…” Barry begs but even he couldn’t accurately articulate what it is he is begging for.

Luckily, Oliver knows exactly what he needs from him because Oliver himself needs it to. “Lay on the mat, Barr.”

In the time it takes him to blink the Flash is already laid out on his back in the center of the mat, his chest rising and falling every few seconds as he breathes. Oliver can feel his cock jump at the sight and the thoughts of what is to come before he goes to the tool box he uses to hold all of his spare bowstrings and the things to clean his many weapons. He opens the third drawer and pulls out a small bottle of bowstring oil. His next stop is his leather jacket where he left it on the back of Felicity’s chair. He pulls out his wallet and grabs the condom that he keeps in there, despite never using it.

Once he drops his wallet into the seat of the chair he turns around to make his way back to the mat. He stops dead in his tracks, though, when he sees what Barry got up to while he was collecting the things he needed. The speedster has his pants and boxer briefs trapped around his thighs. His hand is almost a blur against his cock and his back is bowed off of the black mat. Oliver gulps before rushing to drop down between those spread legs as if he belongs there – which Barry would argue is the truth.

“Wha’ took you s’ long?” Barry slurs, looking up at Oliver through hazy, half-lidded eyes as he continues to stroke himself at a much slower pace.

Oliver glances up at Barry’s face before his gaze is drawn back down to the entrancing sight of his soon-to-be lover pleasuring himself. “Uh,” he says rather brilliantly, just kind of raising the hand holding the condom and substitute lube as an answer.

Barry whimpers at the sight and shakes his head fast enough that his entire head blurs out of focus for a moment. Oliver would worry if he didn’t know that the kid can travel faster than the speed of sound. “Yeah, yes please. I approve of this reason.” He starts to push his pants and underwear further down his legs, looking at Oliver with bright puppy dog eyes and whimpering when they get stuck just under his knees.

Oliver sits back on his ankles and helps pull off the rest of the metahuman’s clothes before he starts to push his own pants down his hips. Before he can get very far he feels a surge of air and the sensation of falling. When he opens his eyes again he is on his back with a very horny Barry Allen looking down at him in a mirror of their position just seconds ago. The man doesn’t even bother to ask what Barry is doing, knowing that it will be explained in less than a minute if he knows the younger man at all.

He gets his answer when Barry slithers down his body until his face is level with Oliver’s crotch. Oliver moans at just the sight of Barry looking up at him from down there. He almost screams when the other mouths at his cock through his pants, somehow perfectly finding the head without even really aiming. He mouths up and down the outline of Oliver’s cock through his pants for a few minutes, watching his face the entire time for any changes in his reaction.

Oliver is reminded once again that Barry is a forensic scientist, a man that knows every intricate detail of his surroundings down to what type of skid mark a shoe will leave when scuffed against the floor. He runs his hand through Barry’s soft brown hair just because he can’t get enough of the silky texture running through his fingers. “Fuck! Barr, Barry!” He screams when all of a sudden his pants are gone and that wicked mouth is on his bare skin.

Somewhere in the back of his mind that isn’t focusing totally on the sensations that Barry is sending to him he spares a second to thank Harrison Wells for creating that stupid particle accelerator and not listening when he was told that it could go wrong.

Back in the present he bucks up into Barry’s sinful mouth, catching himself and forcing his hips back onto the mat so that he doesn’t choke the poor boy. He can tell that Barry hasn’t done this before but for everything that he lacks in experience he more than makes up for in enthusiasm. It takes less than five minutes for Oliver to become a moaning, whimpering mess on the mat, trying desperately not to buck up into the warm mouth making him feel like he had died and gone to heaven.

“Barry, fuck! Barry, please.” He whimpers, tangling his hands in the younger’s hair to try to pull him off.

All that the grip does is make Barry moan louder than he has so far, the sound vibrating across Oliver’s cock and making his eyes roll into the back of his head. He tries again to pull him off, tightening his grip even more so that it forces Barry to look up at him. “Gonna come. S-stop.”

Barry pulls off instantly, the pop of his mouth leaving Oliver’s cock sounding obscenely loud in the nearly empty warehouse. “Why didn’t you just say so?” He asks, his voice lower than Oliver has ever heard.

The archer softens his grip on his hair and sits up so that they are face to face before he leans in and kisses that smirk right off of Barry’s face like he has thought of doing a thousand times before. When he pulls back they are both breathless and panting. The hooded look of Barry’s eyes is enough to make his cock jump between them and they both moan as their cocks brush together.

“Are you sure you want this with me?” Oliver checks, running his hand through Barry’s hair gently, making sure that he knows what he is getting into by agreeing to this.

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t, Ollie. Please, just fuck me.” A moan leaves Oliver’s throat at the crass words before he urges Barry to turn over onto his stomach and then grips his hips to help him onto all fours.

Oliver takes half a second to make sure that the oil and condom are still within reach before he leans forward and licks a stripe across Barry’s hole. The keen that his actions produce is more than enough to spur him on and before long he is eating Barry out for all that he is worth. In a matter of minutes he has three of his fingers buried to the knuckle inside that tight cavern along with his tongue while Barry bucks and whines and tries to push back for more.

“Ollie, please. I-I’m ready.” Barry pants, raking his nails across Oliver’s scalp as he continues to lick at Barry’s rim like it’s his job.

“I know, baby. So open for me. Fuck, I wish you could see this. Your hole is just eating up my fingers so well.” The pet name is out before Oliver can bite his tongue and then it’s like all of his self-control vanishes and he’s just talking without a filter.

“FUCK!” Barry hollers, arching against the fingers inside of him as his whole body vibrates.

In the next blink he flips over onto his back and rolls the condom onto Oliver’s cock before slicking it up with the oil Oliver grabbed. “Are you sure?” Oliver asks again from where he is kneeling over Barry on his hands and knees, caging in the smaller male.

Barry just grabs Oliver’s hand and brings it down to his rock hard cock as an answer to his question. “Yeah, Oliver, I’m sure.”

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” Oliver moans against Barry’s lips, using one hand to hold himself up as he kisses into Barry’s mouth while the other helps guide his cock right where they both want it.

“You’re not too bad yourself, Queen.” Barry chuckles, the sound turning into a stuttered moan when Oliver buries himself inside of him to the hilt, perfectly brushing against Barry’s prostate.

After that it’s not even a question of stopping. The world could be ending. Starling City and Central City could both be under attack and neither hero would be able to pull themselves away from this moment. Oliver starts out extremely slow, guessing that this is Barry’s first time just by how tight he is and the little mewls he gives off at even the simplest of touches (he would be right, but Barry is probably not going to admit to that one any time soon).

“I’m gonna-!” Barry’s entire body bows up into Oliver’s and then he is freezing up before he lets go all at once in a flurry of movement and sound.

The vibrations that Barry’s body produce are like a jolt to Oliver’s cock and he groans at the feeling before he forces himself to hold off. He isn’t ready for this to be over yet and he has a feeling that Barry isn’t either. Barry comes down rather quickly and it takes him all of 42 seconds to get rock hard again; Oliver counts. When Oliver pulls out and slams back into him he hits Barry’s prostate with perfect accuracy, making Barry scream out in pure ecstasy.

Barry is much more relaxed after his orgasm but he is no less receptive to what Oliver is doing to him. If anything the man works even harder to get them both off. He tightens his ass every time Oliver pulls out as if he is trying to keep him in. He makes those sounds that he can tell drive Oliver crazy with lust and force him to thrust even faster than before. He even reaches between them to grab his own cock and works it in time to Oliver’s thrusts. When Oliver feels himself getting close he bats Barry’s hand out of the way and takes over getting him off himself.

It’s only a matter of seconds before Barry is completely falling apart and trembling from the sensations. He starts vibrating and that’s it for Oliver. The older man drives into Barry one last time, perfectly hitting his prostate and drawing a keen from Barry’s lips as he comes harder than he has in a long time. Barry is following him over the edge mere seconds after, his body shaking and convulsing as he goes limp below Oliver.

Afterwards Oliver pulls out as gently as he can, knowing that Barry is going to be sore for a couple hours, but his body will heal extremely quickly. Oliver lays on his back on the mat beside Barry, listening to the sound of the other’s breathing as he comes down from his high. “Not really how I imagined our first time.” Barry comments and Oliver smiles at that.

“You imagines that we would have a first time?” Oliver asks, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow so that he can look down at Barry.

“Yeah. The night that I met you.” He admits, blushing and looking away when he realizes what he just said.

Oliver grips his chin between his thumb and forefinger before bringing Barry’s face back to his so he can kiss him softly. When he pulls back he has a massive grin on his face that makes Barry want to hide his face in that massive chest and never come back out. “Really?”

“You were a fucking tease all night! Those pants should be illegal.” Barry pouts and Oliver decides to put the kid out of his misery and stop picking on him.

“Glad it wasn’t just me, then. And your outfit wasn’t much better, Mr. Allen.” Oliver purrs, stroking up and down Barry’s side with the very tips of his fingers.

“I was in my best jeans! What do you mean?”

“Those jeans could not have been any tighter if you had painted them on, Barry.” Oliver growls low in his throat, leaning in to kiss Barry before he pulls back to look at him.

His smile is gone and his face is that mask of indifference that Barry hates so much. But Oliver’s eyes can’t lie, regardless of what the rest of his face is doing. “You regret it don’t you?”

“How could you say that?” The billionaire asks, sitting up more so that he can get a better look at Barry’s face. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Because you’re closing yourself off again. You only ever do that when you think you’re about to get hurt.” Barry explains and Oliver feels like a jerk so he pulls Barry into his arms and kisses his forehead.

“I could never regret you, Barry Allen.” He promises into his hairline. “And I really do love you.”

“So why the face?”

“I was just remembering that Felicity installed a camera a couple weeks ago so that we could keep an eye on the place and I have absolutely no idea where the footage is stored.”

Barry blushes and does hide his face in Oliver’s chest, groaning in embarrassment at the thought of what just happened being caught on camera. “That woman is so much more devious than people give her credit for.”

“Agreed.” Oliver nods, brushing his fingers through the short hairs at the back of Barry’s neck.

“So how about we go clean up and grab some take out? As long as you get up a little bit earlier than usual you can spend the night at my house and still make it to work on time.” Oliver asks, more nervous than he hopes his voice conveys.

He doesn’t want to jump to any conclusions but he figures in for a penny in for a pound. “I’d love that. But you’re buying.”

That makes Oliver laugh and he kisses Barry one more time before dragging himself to his feet and grabbing his pants. He throws Barry’s in the man’s general direction and by the time Oliver has his shirt on Barry is already dressed and waiting for him by the door, wearing Oliver’s leather jacket.

Oliver can’t even be mad that he stole the jacket, deciding that Barry Allen in a leather jacket with tousled sex hair and a massive smile is his new favorite look on the man. They walk out of the warehouse and Barry doesn’t just run off like Oliver kind of expects him to. Instead he just stands beside Oliver’s motorcycle until the man gets on it and then he slides into place behind him with a quiet hum. “Hope you don’t mind if I ride with you. You kinda wore me out.”

Oliver just chuckles and puts his helmet on, knowing that if they crash Barry will have them both out of the way before either needs a helmet, but donning it out of habit. When he gets halfway home he stops rather suddenly at a red light and it forces both he and Barry forward. He almost moans when he feels Barry’s hard cock brush against his back but he just grins and puts his head down a bit more. When we get home, he promises himself, and the word makes him almost purr with satisfaction. Home sounds really good, especially if Barry is in it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So? I should probably just leave. This got way longer and way more plot based than I was planning. I don't know how I feel about it but I don't hate it so that's good at least. Let me know what you think and if you have any ideas for some more Olivarry fics feel free to leave the idea below. I actually love writing for this pairing so I will probably write a lot more of it in the future.


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